


Waxing or Waning, Always Together

by anorarakkora (openacademia)



Category: League of Legends
Genre: Aphelios Is Implied to be Gay, Gen, Help, I Love Sibling Dynamics, Plot, This might end up being just self-indulgent sibling stuff tbh, because y'all are thirsty, don't look at me that way, draft, healthy sibling pranksters with a dash of drama, kinda edgy moon siblings, road trip? journey to the west?, told partially from alune's first-person perspective, you know its true
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-27
Updated: 2020-06-27
Packaged: 2021-03-04 04:27:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24547612
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/openacademia/pseuds/anorarakkora
Summary: Aphelios and Alune live their lives seperate, but together. Together in mind, in purpose, and in heart. The Solari, guardians of the mountain, fear them. The Rakkor, the mountain's inhabitants, whisper their names as in myth. Their purpose now? Find Diana, the last remaining other Lunari that they know of. They're willing to do almost anything to find her again, and reunite the Lunari tribe once again.
Relationships: Aphelios & Alune, Other Relationship Tags to Be Added
Comments: 3
Kudos: 14





	Waxing or Waning, Always Together

_ “Aphelios.” _

_ My voice echoes through the endless expanse that separates us in but an instant, as if I’d only called softly across a room instead of through a sea of spirit and void. The poison in your veins pulses softly at my call, and I can almost feel your pain from here.  _

_ Yet you barely stir. The poison causes a sudden tension in your shoulders, the remnants of a flinch that despite ages of endurance, you’ve never fully gotten rid of. But that’s the extent of the response I get. _

_ “Aphelios, wake up.” _

_ I feel the brush of your consciousness, finally. Your eyelids flicker open slowly, and you shift your weight slightly on the cot. The remnants of last night’s dose of noctum burn sour in your mouth, and flecks of sleep poke your eyes. Your mind groggily finds the source of my voice amongst errant impressions stirred by sleep. _

_ “Good, you’re awake. We’re on her trail today. I felt a stirring from here,” I say to you, raising my mind to the slopes on the far side of Targon.  _

_ The fabric of the spirit realm has always rippled strongly here for the past few years, in thick, constant motion. Something I’d always thought should be investigated. I have a few suspicions as to what-- or who-- it could mean, but none of those pose as an immediate priority. _

_ Not compared to… other things. Solari attacks on what little precious Lunari relics and ruins remain. Witch-hunts that have led innocents to a sunlit pyre. The girl who’s finally filled an empty space left vacant so long ago, only to disappear with barely a trail for us to follow.  _

_ But that trail has led to the hills, and now we finally have a chance to investigate. All of this runs through my mind as I show you the steppes in a vision intended to guide you there. _

_ Instead of reaching for it, you shrug off the images, retreating away from my touch and back into your bed.  _

_ “Aphelios?” I repeat. Your mind retreats even further as I reach out. “Brother, wake up.” _

_ The noctum that burns in response to my call barely garners a twitch this time. I groan in frustration.  _

Fine,  _ I think,  _ if you’re going to be like  _ that. _

  
  


Aphelios relished the last moments of sleep he had in his warm nest of scavenged furs and fabrics. It was meager, and not very well-padded (he’d been trained to sleep on hard floors anyway), but it was warm. 

After the remnants of Alune’s voice slipped away, he lingered on the edge of slipping back into the dark, warm orbit of sleep. Tempting. His arms ached from the day before, and every muscle screamed like he had lifted a mountain and forgotten to stretch afterwards. 

Not entirely inaccurate, as Aphelios usually forgot to stretch anyway.

Not that it erased that pain. The noctum was the cause of most of his soreness, and no amount of stretching could work years of it out of his system. 

Perhaps it would lessen if he spent some time without taking it. Days, a week, perhaps even a month. What would that be like? Spending a day hiking without a flinch. A day where he could raise a hand to the cool night air, without a stabbing pain in every muscle that flexed with the movement. A day…

_...without Alune. _

Aphelios pushed away the thoughts, filling them instead with Alune. Alune, laughing as they took care of the moonstone blades in the sanctuary. Alune, smirking as Aphelios beat everyone else in a footrace. Alune, stricken face painted in ghostly blue as she looked down at him dying on the steps of the Marus Omegnum. 

The day he spent without Alune by his side would be the day he died.

And so, until then, he’d keep drinking the pain as he drank down the noctum.

Sobered, he pulled himself into wakefulness. His eyes fluttered open, catching the last remnants of the evening sun filter through the opening of the cave as they alighted on the noctum blossoms at the bottom of the pool. 

The bottom of the pool, far below him.

About eight feet far below him.

Before he could register what was going on, the force that was lifting him and his blanket up off the ground disappeared. He flailed as he fell into the pool with a freezing cold splash.

He dragged himself out of the pool, gasping and sputtering. He spotted something out of the corner of his eye as he lay there, muscles groaning, something that looked a lot like Gravitum’s barrel. Half-manifested and cocked straight where he’d been sleeping. It disappeared almost immediately after he spotted it, but Aphelios knew immediately what had just happened.

Aphelios scowled, putting his forehead to the cave floor. He mentally called to Alune, who he figured would be cackling back in her temple atrium, Gravitum in hand.

_ Hm? Oh, Aphelios… did something happen? _

Aphelios rolled his eyes and glared at nothing in particuar, scrutinizing Alune. She couldn’t hide the edge of mirth from her voice or the guilty grin that seemed to come with it, though he could only picture it from memory.

He pointedly fished out his blanket from the pool, twisting it up in order to wring it out. It would take days to dry now.

Alune laughed.  _ You wouldn’t get up, and I was desperate. I’m sorry. _

Aphelios raised his eyebrows.

_ Fine… Maybe I’m not. I had a reason, though-- _

He snorted.

_ I’m serious! _ she protested. _ I wanted to try and see how much I could interact with the weapons if they were halfway-between. While I can touch them here, I can barely do anything once they’re physical. But between planes... _

Aphelios gestured to himself, his wet blanket, and made a face at the air.

Another laugh, a bit sheepish and quiet this time.  _ Yes, I guess I do know now.  _

They sat in silence for a few moments as Aphelios wrung out the water and snapped the blanket open to shake it out. It wasn’t unusual for Alune to go quiet for a few minutes, but once he hung the blanket on a line close to the top of the cave, he had to mentally reach to find her. 

_ Sorry. _

The answer was earnest, and sudden. Aphelios was almost taken aback. He almost smiled. 

_ Just how mad are you? _

Aphelios chuckled. He shook his head.

She relaxed.  _ Thank goodness. _

Aphelios continued getting dressed for travel. His weapons were kept in the Marus Omegnum, with Alune, so he didn’t have to worry about them, but his other more worldly effects were harder to transport. 

The spot she’d showed him wasn’t far enough for him to justify packing up noctum seedlings, as he could be back before he needed more. 

Still, he had to make more noctum essence before he set out. Lots, probably. He sighed in resignation as he moved towards the Piltover distillery setup in the corner.

Time to get to work.

  
  
  


_ I walk the halls of the Marus Omegnum, Severum and Gravitum tucked under my arm. Aphelios is working, distilling Noctum, a routine I’ve seen many times before. He doesn’t often like to be disturbed, and I respect some of his need for solitude. We’re always together, after all. Besides, I have my own busywork to attend to. _

_ The Marus Omegnum, grand and powerful instrument that it is for keeping balance, spiritual harmony, and my own connection to Phel, still does have its own quirks and needs. So do the five weapons that Phel wields out in the physical world. For example, since the Omegnum is a spiritual construct, I have to meditate upon it for some hours each day to make sure it doesn’t lose orbit with the physical realm, or dissipate entirely. And the weapons… Stars. I sometimes wish Phel was more careful with them. They’re moonstone, after all. _

_ Vaulted ceilings curve above me as I walk the halls. Everything shimmers in an otherworldly fashion here as a reminder that this place is only half-physical. And yet, I can still smell the crisp air off of cold marble. Even the tiniest swish of my skirts echoes in the long, empty halls. My feet lead me to the armory, and I find myself moving at a jogging pace, impatient to get there. There’s many hallways full of beautiful things. An observatory. A garden. But I seek only the armory. _

_ As I round the corner, I find I’ve arrived. The armory is a more squarish room than most of the other chambers, which are round to mimic the celestial bodies above. The far wall holds some weapons, ordinary moonsilver swords and spears, a few bows and skeins of arrows. No moonstone weapons, not anymore. I spare only a glance at the empty spaces I took them from years before. A central area serves as a sparring area that was probably created by a previous inhabitant who wished for a place to practice. Shelves and hooks line the near wall, holding tools, and a workbench. Some have ornate, bizarre shapes, and uses that I’ve not discerned yet. But some are slightly less mystifying. _

_ One of these, a sharpening stone, I take off the wall. It has an odd, slight bevel and curved edge, but it’s just a sharpening stone as far as I know. I set it in a vice on the workbench and take Severum from under my arm. _

_ I turn it in my hands and sigh. The pointed blade underneath the pistol is dulled significantly. I squint at it and wrack my memory, trying to determine how it happened.  _

_ The effort only makes my head hurt. I roll up my sleeves.  _

_ I do wish Aphelios would be more careful with them, Severum and Crescendum in particular. Crescendum’s moonstone edges are hard and unfailingly sharp, yet brittle, and the last time a tip broke off I spent days attempting to fix it back on. And Severum… Phel takes it into most close-combat skirmrishes, and it’s inevitably the one that needs the most maintenance.  _

_ As I sharpen the blade, rhythmic motion allowing my mind to wander, I wonder if it might have been me that damaged the blade. Perhaps I dropped it lately, in a scramble to send it to _

_ As I sharpen the blade, I remember. Some weeks ago, Aphelios was suddenly ambushed by a wandering Solari patrol. I was away from the prayer room, where I could channel my power to help him. In my rush to get there, I dropped Severum in the halls. I left it behind in panic, and barely got to the prayer room in time to send him Gravitum and Infernum.  _

_ A headache blossoms in my head. Aphelios had laughed it off afterwards when I told him, but I ate and slept in the prayer room for the next three days.  _

_ I speed up my pace at the sharpening stone. I’ve only been away from him for minutes, but I suddenly feel impatient to return. _

  
  


Aphelios stoppered his flask and set it to his back. He was in the middle of getting dressed when he felt Alune return, her voice somewhat fainter than it had been that morning.

_Sorry I took so long. Nothing happened while I was gone?_

Aphelios's brow knotted together.

_I know, I know. It wasn't that long. I was... worried._

Worried about what? Aphelios finished dressing and hefted his flask, clipping it to his belt. His muscles weren't as sore as they'd been that morning, and he was feeling rested and strong. He felt pretty confident. He knew that, reasonably, he shouldn't be, that any day now would be the day he made a mistake and fell onto a Solari blade, but he felt like it wouldn't be today.

Alune stayed silent, thoughtful.

Aphelios tapped at the back of his hand to get her attention.

_Right, sorry. Ready to go?_

Aphelios nodded. 

He stepped out into the sunlight, ready for wherever Alune's guidance would take him.

**Author's Note:**

> IT BEGINS.....
> 
> Well, the draft does. Hello, this is the first draft of a story I'm planning to continue about the relationship between Alune and Aphelios. I don't play Aphelios myself, but the lore interests me a lot, and I wanted to explore what else they could do and be in their daily lives.
> 
> Aphelios takes the noctum almost constantly, in this fic, or at least at this point in the story. So, he's always in pain, but always has Alune on a hotline. That might diverge from canon a bit. I don't mind at this point, it's just a first draft.
> 
> Constructive criticism is appreciated, if you'd like to give it! This is a first draft so I'd love to improve it for the finished product.
> 
> Thanks, hope you enjoy!


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